Argrave stared at the silver bracer around his forearm. It fit quite snugly, and it was difficult to tell that it was sapping his blood away if not for the slowly-filling glass meter atop it. He sat atop his bed, preparing for his day. Today would be the first day he wore this bracer, and he was curious to see how it affected him.

“…why are you so unsure?” Argrave asked Anneliese.

Argrave had become a king, now. People would refer to him with the prefix ‘king’ or call him ‘your majesty’ to his face… provided they bought the whole idea, at least. Argrave wasn’t sure he did. He didn’t feel particularly kingly. Galamon and Durran addressed him that way. Durran said it was only so he didn’t make a mistake publicly. Anneliese had been addressing him as such, too, until Argrave managed to persuade her that she would become a queen, so the address was unnecessary.

Not much changed in private, though. Argrave went to sleep beside and awoke with Anneliese. They watched the suns set when they could, although recent times had kept them quite busy. They talked about magic, their plans for the future, their experiences in the past… Argrave was very glad of the normalcy in their private life. It kept him grounded, reminded him that he was but a man. Still, he might need someone to mutter ‘memento mori’ in his ears before long.

“Because you posit A-rank ascension will be as simple as walking for me,” Anneliese held her hands out exasperatedly. “It could take months after we find it.”

“And we’ll find it a month from now. Not seeing the issue,” Argrave said with a cheeky smile.

Anneliese caressed her forehead then sat beside him. “You have become a little bit too unflappable these days, Argrave,” she noted, though her voice betrayed some affection. “You, yourself, have been studying A-rank ascension, reading through the textbooks we pilfered from the Order of the Rose and Garm’s personal writing. Surely you know the difficulty by now?”

Argrave sighed at her reminder. In ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ most A-rank ascensions were passive abilities. Magister Hegazar passively projected an illusion, for instance. As Argrave recalled, Magister Vera’s allowed her to substitute elements in spells while retaining their form—electric fire, for instance. Rowe had the classic Veidimen A-rank ascension, imbuing ice into all spells. Garm’s… Argrave wasn’t sure of it fully, but one facet of it allowed the man to cast spells from his eyes. There was the man in the Margrave’s service, too—Helmuth. He had Minor Truesight.

Argrave was trying to implement his undying soul into his A-rank ascension. He wanted to improve upon the Blood Infusion he had in mind. He felt it could be done. A resilient soul, as he possessed, could surely implement into his magic. Thus far, he’d considered substituting the blood in blood magic for a strain upon his soul. The idea was tempting, and even feasible. But it negated the benefits of his black blood in blood magic—in essence, his blood magic would lose some of its punch. He wasn’t so eager to delve full-heartedly into that route.

“You’re a genius. I’ve also been studying imbuing, too,” Argrave pointed to her. “You learned that ten times faster than I did. Back at Veiden, you managed to do it in seconds after following my instructions.”

“A simple F-rank spell on a page? You compare that to your studies into imbuing?” she asked incredulously. “What have you mastered by now?”

Argrave turned his head, reaching over to the bronze hand mirror.

Traits: [Tall], [Black Blooded], [Intelligent], [Magic Affinity (High)], [Blessing of Supersession (MAX)]

Skills: [Elemental Magic (B)], [Blood Magic (B)], [Healing Magic (C)], [Illusion Magic (C)], [Warding Magic(B)], [Druidic Magic (C)], [Inscription (E)], [Imbuing (C)]

“C-rank imbuing, according to the mirror, mirror on the wall.” Argrave turned his head. “Until I can replicate B-rank spells as enchantments, what’s the point?”

“See? I have not progressed whatsoever on that field. I dislike it when you compare me to you. You always undermine yourself to make me appear more than I am,” Anneliese said.

Argrave set the mirror back on the nightstand. “Alright, alright. I think I have a pretty damned accurate gauge on your skills, though. I think you can realistically become A-rank in the timeframe allotted. After all, we’ve got notes from ages past. When you and Garm collaborated… you became B-rank in a matter of days.”

Anneliese turned her head to where the Brumesingers played, and soon enough Argrave was watching too. Anneliese’s Starsparrow sat atop their snouts, and they took turns gently tossing the bird to the air and catching it on their noses. It was such a bizarre thing, but the animals seemed to be genuinely enjoying it. Soon enough, the both of them were smiling.

“I can only try not to disappoint, Argrave,” Anneliese eventually said, resigned. “So, this ascension… Life Cycle, you called it,” she turned her head. “You can think of none better? None that synchronize with you, perhaps?”

Argrave shook his head. “Considered finding you one that matches with my battle strategy, but… I’d prefer you be capable in your own right. Life Cycle somewhat matches up with me, anyway.” Argrave smiled as he thought of it. “Bottom line, though, it focuses on remedying a universal problem for all spellcasters—the supply of magic.” Argrave rose to his feet. “We’d best get going. I’m told my personal heraldry would be finished this morning.”

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